TO KNOW ME IS TO LOVE ME

     I am always in disbelief at how loud H’s alarm is. We woke promptly at 6:30 am. H got motivated, I lingered in bed a bit longer. I had been dreaming about something I could barely remember now, but I felt it had left an impression on me. When H opens the blinds we were greeted by a grey sky threatening rain or maybe the rain had just passed.       As I straightened my hair, H and I listened to a few songs by Cocteau Twins and a song by Ride. H thinks there’s a better Ride song from the same album, which I pulled up and we listened to though it wasn’t nearly as good. Ride doesn’t have many good songs to begin with. This had me thinking about other artists we mutually listen to where our favorite songs differ. I go through a few with him: The Smiths: H’s favorite song is  Still Ill  from their self titled debut album. Mine is  Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me  which, funny enough, is from their final album. Led Zeppelin...

     I took my time at the gym since I had nowhere to be. When I stepped back out into Soho, the heat was still intense. I deigned to go into the subway. I raced a guy to the last electric Citibike on Lafayette and threw my bag into the basket, acting as if I didn’t see him. We locked eyes and exchanged looks. I hopped on and rode off, turning on East 4th and making my way to the West Side Highway. Flying through the West Village, crossing the highway, and reaching the Hudson, a sight so blinding stopped me. I dismounted to take it in. The sun, glowing hot and looming just above the horizon; the size of it in the sky made the high-rises across the river look like toys. Joggers and bikers continued on their way. The crowds of people basking on every inch of grass looked on.       I rode a bit further. Past the Little Island and past Chelsea Piers, watching the sunset as I went up the bike path. I stopped again when I saw the sun had been dyed red. I wat...